One Cold Night
by Knave Iespyk
Summary: A look into the troubled lives of Zarana, Zandar and Zartan.


One Cold Night

  
  


It was a risk to even be here, and Zarana knew it. The site was a cliff top along the coast of Florida. The G.I. Joe Blaine Parker, aka Mainframe, had agreed to meet her here. Perhaps she'd gone a little overboard with the romanticism of it all, but she'd thought it necessary. He'd been standing there for a few minutes, neither willing to be the first one to break the ice. Finally she sat at the edge and gestured for him to join her. "Where are we going?" she asked idly.

  
  


"About fifty metres down if we're not careful," he replied with a subtle smile. "I assume you mean the relationship." Zarana nodded. "It's hard to say. I love you, Zarana, with all my being but we're stuck on opposing sides. You won't leave Cobra because you don't want to abandon your family, and I won't leave G.I. Joe."

  
  


"We're not ending our relationship, if I have a say in it," she said, resting her head against his shoulder.

  
  


"Wouldn't dream of it. But there's not much we can do, really. We can't get married because the cops would arrest you. We can't even turn neutral. Love doesn't make any sense."

  
  


"I know, mate, it's not fair either. There haven't been many people that I can truly say I trusted, let alone loved. And now that I have one, life tries to take him away." Zarana paused, fighting back tears. "I've never told you about my family, have I?" Mainframe shook his head. "I guess it's time I told you then, to make you realize just how much I need this."

  
  


* * *

  
  


We lived in small town Austria, near manufacturing plant. That's where our father worked. Our mother stayed at home and tried to keep the house clean. With three kids running around, that can't have been easy. I'll have to use their code names. My brothers wouldn't appreciate me revealing all our secrets. Zartan was thirteen when he was sent to work with our father, I'd have been eleven and Zandar ten. Times were tight, we had very little money, but we were happy then.

  
  


I can still remember the day that all changed. Zandar and I were on our way home from school, suspended for getting into a fight with some older kids. I was ecstatic. "Did you see the way I threw that fat guy?" I bragged to Zandar.

  
  


"I sure did. I'll wager he won't come near you again," Zandar replied, the thrill of fighting clear in his eyes.

  
  


"Course, four on two and we get blamed. Go figure, eh? What'd we do to deserve it?" I asked. Of course, it probably was our fault. We'd seen the four of them sitting playing cards and threw stones at them because they were under our favourite tree. They didn't take kindly to this and came after us.

  
  


We probably should have realized there was something wrong when we got home. Zartan was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, crying. He hadn't even bothered to take his coveralls off, covered in grease and god knows what else. But we were oblivious to it. Caught in the excitement of another fight well fought.

  
  


"Zartan! We got in a fight, Zartan. We beat up these four big kids! I'll bet they're crying all the way to their mommies and daddies!" I bragged, a big grin on my face.

  
  


"Yeah. Their mommies and daddies!" Zandar chuckled.

  
  


"Dad's dead," Zartan said. I stopped laughing and looked at him. He'd said it so quietly I wasn't sure I'd heard right. Zandar continued laughing, not having heard. I clamped a hand over his mouth until he got the point. "There was an accident at work. The catwalk broke and dad fell. They wouldn't say much, but thought it was a broken neck." I'd never heard Zartan sound like that. He was quiet, deathly quiet.

  
  


Zandar burst into tears, running to his room. I stayed with Zartan for about an hour, just sitting beside him allowing my grief to flood over me. At some point he'd pulled me closer into a warm hug. That's when we got more bad news. Zandar screamed.

  
  


Zartan and I ran through the house until we found him in mom and dad's room. He stood paralysed in the doorway, still screaming. We pulled him away and looked for ourselves. Mom lay in a pool of blood, her wrists slashed open. That was the worst day of my life, you can't imagine what that can do to a child's mind. We felt unloved and abandoned by the world. We ran away rather than let ourselves be caught and sent to some orphanage.

  
  


* * *

  
  


If we thought life was hard at first, then we soon found out that it was even worse. We struggled to survive on our own, moving from town to town, living in cardboard boxes, alleys, under bridges or anywhere that would hold the three of us. We did everything to make money. We robbed people, took on jobs that no one would ever want, when I was old enough I began prostituting myself. It got to the point where Zartan had accept an offer from these seedy types. They needed a guinea pig for some experiments but the government wouldn't fund them. Everything you know about him today is a result of that. His voice, his aversion to sunlight, his face markings, even his chameleon powers. We don't know what they did, but when he came back to us after the weekend he wasn't the same. We ate well for a long time after that.

  
  


But as that money began drying up, and I was facing my second pregnancy scare in the ten years since we'd run off, our hopes grew dim. We were about ready to turn ourselves in to the authorities, anything to get food a proper bath. But then we stumbled into a biker gang headquarters, and they were none too happy about that.

  
  


"Well, well, what have we here? A bunch of scruffy bums. Looking for a scrap of food, are we?" the leader said.

  
  


"At least they brought a girlie with them. Maybe she can have some food," another remarked, suggesting to his friends what I'd have to do and where I'd have to put what to get anything to eat. The others were thinking along similar lines, and I was terrified. But trust Zartan to turn a dangerous situation into a positive. He walked up to the leader and looked him square in eye.

  
  


"You call yourselves a gang? Why even I could lead you better than this bloke," he said, addressing the others, but keeping a firm watch on his most dangerous threat.

  
  


"What did you say?" he asked.

  
  


"I think you heard what I said. I challenge you to a fight for control of this band."

  
  


"And if you lose, we get our way with your friend over there."

  
  


I could see Zartan blanch. He was having second thoughts about this, but I had no doubt that if we backed out that I'd be raped anyway. I really think Zartan would have made a break for it if I hadn't suddenly accepted on his behalf, making some vain remark that none of the men present could handle a woman like me.

  
  


The fight wasn't pretty, but then such things rarely are. Zartan kicked, punched and bit the older man, while the biker used a heavy lead pipe to try and end it quickly. It was his own stupid fault for bringing the thing, Zartan wrested it from his grip and clocked him across his thick skull. He died soon after.

  
  


The bikers weren't sure what to do. Zartan had won the leadership of the group. What could they do? The one that had made the rude remark to me apologized quickly, and the others did likewise. I guess everyone figured that they might as well cozy up to their new boss. Torch and Ripper were part of that early group. Buzzer joined up when we merged with a British gang that had heard of us and wanted to be part of it.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Things went well for us for years. Under Zartan's careful guidance we expanded our influence, received protection money from the locals, and opened up a bar or two. There was a time when the mere whisper of 'Dreadnoks' in Western Europe would have people looking over their shoulders, expecting us to burst in.

  
  


Zartan wasn't happy with any of it though. He wanted more. More money, especially, enough that he would never have to worry about being poor again. He wanted enough that he could buy the old factory and build a place for us. It was always family first with him. Any dreams he had would always include us.

  
  


We thought we had our big break when Cobra Commander and Destro arrived at our headquarters one day. We cleared the rabble out and faced a man we'd only heard of. Zandar stood behind Zartan as did I, leaving our older brother to sit and negotiate.

  
  


"I've heard great things about you and your Dreadnoks," Cobra Commander said, his rasping voice catching me off guard. Somehow I expected him to be more intimidating, with a deeper voice and broad stature. More like Destro, really.

  
  


"I suspect most of it is untrue, Commander," Destro retorted.

  
  


"It depends on the story," Zartan replied, hating Destro from the moment he opened his mouth. "I've heard some stories that are full of blood, money, and death. Those are true. There are some less flattering stories going around. They too are true. We have a strict policy about liars. They find their tongues removed."

  
  


"Bravo, I can see we came to the right man," Cobra Commander said, gesturing for Destro to sit in the chair next to his.

  
  


"We shall see, Commander, whether this man's actions can back up his words."

  
  


Zartan turned to me as if to express exasperation but lunged over the table, tackling Destro to the ground. The look had been more of a signal, really. Something to inform me that he was going to attack and that I was to watch Cobra Commander. The terrorist didn't even budge, except to turn and watch the fight. Zartan pummelled Destro ferociously before backing off and returning to his seat. Destro scowled and reached for his gun. Zandar and I, crossbow and pistol readied, convinced him that he would only get the one shot. He grudgingly sat down.

  
  


"Well, if they can defeat the most noble Destro," Cobra Commander sneered, "then I think they can handle a simple task like the one I have." Zartan's eyebrow raised inquisitively while Destro sulked beneath that mask of his. "I would like to hire you for a mission requiring stealth. G.I. Joe is in possession of some data files that I would like destroyed."

  
  


I exchanged knowing looks with Zandar. We both knew that Zartan was in the driver's seat and this would prove to be our most profitable venture yet. "G.I. Joe? The new military organization? That's going to be tricky," I said.

  
  


"And dangerous," Zandar added, playing his part.

  
  


"And expensive," Zartan added lastly. "I can do it, easily, but it will cost you a pretty penny. If I'm caught, I want it to be worth my while."

  
  


I hardly remember the figure we finally settled on, but I do remember that many of the gang got new bikes out of the deal. Zartan figured he wouldn't need everyone to go on this mission, so he took our three best and left Zandar and I behind to run things in his absence.

  
  


* * *

  
  


We got a cheque in the mail a little while later with our share of the money and a letter from Zartan. He said that Cobra Commander had recruited him for a second mission and he'd accepted. He swore that he'd start setting up a base in the U.S. and move us over. Things didn't really go as planned. G.I. Joe destroyed the first base he tried to set up and the second required repairs after a brush fire. Zandar and I wondered if we'd ever see Zartan again. He sent us a part of the earnings and made frequent promises to come by, but he never did.

  
  


Meanwhile, things were going okay for us back home. The Dreadnoks were firmly entrenched, making money, extorting people, and drinking beer. We were at the top of the world. But even that began to fall around our ears. We had apparently mugged the son of the mayor and had to endure a city wide crackdown on biker gangs. When the country realized how vulnerable we were, they too came down heavily on us. Half the gang was arrested, some killed and many deserted. We had no choice. Zandar and I took all the money and ran to Zartan, to where he was busy recruiting two new members; Thrasher and Monkeywrench.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"And that pretty much brings us to now," Zarana said, gazing at the waves crashing below them. She was quietly proud of Mainframe. He had sat through the story without saying a word, listening and offering his moral support. She'd felt him squeeze a little tighter during the dark moments and seem to lighten during the good. Even though he'd known how it would end, he hadn't known the route it would take. "I haven't told anyone that," she mused aloud, "I guess that means for sure I love you."

  
  


"After hearing that, I want to protect you even more. Zarana, I wish I could join Cobra, I really do, and I wish you could join G.I. Joe, but we can't. I'm just afraid that I won't be able to see you again."

  
  


"Then let's make the most of the time we have," Zarana replied, kissing him.


End file.
